Veritaserum
by Captain in Bloom
Summary: The wizarding world is in great turmoil, anticipating an uocoming war. Luckily Hogwarts has recruited a small portion of student agents who have a knack for finding and eliminating trouble. But what if the trouble is caused by a love wasting over time?
1. Release Diary

Disclaimer: Bow down all of those who read these sacred words. Lay thy head upon thy knee and be still. Thou shalt be blessed by the abundance of wisdom and valiance thee shalt encompass. Pray, still thy heart and thy steed; all shalt be at peace in the woods. Here be thy means: JK Rowling and Warner Bros own every freaking little bit of Harry Potter.  
  
Ready for some original romance and status? Ready for some rip rawrin' good ole 'Arry Potter fun? (Wow the accent went from Texan to Cockney *bows head in shame*) This is the story for you!!! How 'bout some exciting Jack Sparrow action? Go read "Yet Another Tale That Leaves No Survivors" by yours truly. Do it!! Now!!!  
  
---  
  
Bay's Release Diary  
  
I am an agent. It's the muggle term for what I do anyway.  
  
This is a diary of release. At least, that's what Albus calls it. Considering that it took me numerous spells, occulemency sessions not to mention courage-building breaths to reach this stage, I was expecting a special release or result. I can only assume that Albus deems this very necessary to my work having put so much time into preparing me. I won't pretend to understand his motives, but I admit I feel more ... reassured.  
  
My name is Bélanger Poireau of the former French Canadian Poireaux. At least, that's the origin of my name and my adoptive muggle parents. I, on the other hand, am purely of the British witch variety. I never knew my real parents, I can't be sure whether they live or lie among those slaughtered at the hands of Voldemort before the Boy Who Lived. I have an eerie feeling that Albus knows despite his denial.  
  
Lord, it feels so wonderful to even think "Voldemort." They are very particular about using that word in school and at the Ministry. But I'm getting ahead of myself.  
  
My acquaintances in Ravenclaw call me Bay. I am in sixth year at Hogwarts but my habitual "sick leaves" since third year kept me from forming any true relationships.  
  
These sick leaves constitute approximately half of my school years when added together. In truth, these leaves are the week in which I work at the Ministry as a secretary a.k.a. Hogwarts Independent Informant, an innocent spy for the Order. I was recruited and trained in my third year for reasons unknown. I know that I am talented in some ways, but enough to be entrusted with such responsibility?  
  
Nobody outside of the Order can know of my double life. This includes my beloved muggle parents. It breaks my heart each time I lie to them about my safety at school. However, tears will get me nowhere.  
  
Albus – with the help of Professor McGonagal – carefully constructed my image at the Ministry. I am the "friendly" secretary at Fudge's offices. A senior position but not excessively so. I have a private room to work in with an open door policy to any down-hearted chap who needs the comfort of a heartfelt chat, advice, and a good ogle at the young, ever-so-slightly pretty secretary with the long, generously slitted skirts, and plunging robes who works at Fudge's offices.  
  
The young and clumsy secretary look appeals to these depressed or simply bored workers. They don't mind constantly scooping up the quills and inkwells she "knocks" to the floor where they can sneak a languorous look up a skirt slit. Nor do they mind the interruptions during a comforting talk when she upsets a pile of parchment with a careless foot and bends to rearrange them, allowing a lengthy glimpse of the lacy bra not particularly well hidden beyond the neckline of the robe. I don't sell my body or hand out sexual favours; I just use the appropriate mannerisms and accessories to receive the information the Order needs. I somehow do not feel better putting it like that.  
  
At school I am known as the highly superficial, highly intelligent Ravenclaw who attends independent DADA classes, if I'm known at all. I have an advanced knack for cosmetic and figure altering spells that I learned specifically for my HII work. It allows me to go unrecognized as a student by anyone at the Ministry. My reputation isn't helped by my occasional chats and "Quibbler" readings with Loony Lovegood.  
  
My reputation suits me FINE, just fine. I needn't answer any bloody questions about my leaves because the others see me as completely bonkers, barmy, or plain stuck-up.  
  
The Order is my life.  
  
---  
  
What thinketh you? Read and review! Did I mention that other story ... Yet Another Tale That Leaves No Survivors... yes? Well doesn't hurt to ask twice *is promptly run over by steamroller* 


	2. A New POV! Houseelves?

Disclaimer: I don't know where I got the energy for my last AN and disclaimer so sorry for the unoriginality. I don't own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it.  
  
POTC lovers, read the story "Yet Another Tale That Leaves No Survivors."  
  
---  
  
Third person POV  
  
Bélanger was sorting out Ministry documents and putting aside Order worthy tidbits of information with the office door firmly closed. A small stack of waiting schoolbooks sat under the desk itching to be opened. No candles were lit as the bewitched window provided enough light. The bewitchment was unnecessary on the caretakers' part considering the sun was shining merrily outside. However, the diligently working young witch kept the window shut as firmly as the door. That is, until a little tapping sound could be heard against the glass.  
  
Bélanger continued to shuffle through dusty parchment, listening intently to the steady rhythm. She slowly assessed the noise as being made by a rather small owl. Shooting an enforcing spell over her shoulder at the window, she rose and turned before cautiously opening it.  
  
Buzz! A miniscule featherball of an owl, weighed down by an irregularly shaped envelope, bulleted in. The delivery did not hamper the owl's energy and he rocketed off every possible object in the room.  
  
"Morning, Piggy," Bélanger laughed softly at the little menace, catching him deftly in her left hand. She untied the cord around his leg and chose a select slip of parchment to return. She fed Pigwidgeon a bacon rind and shooed him out of the window.  
  
The exterior of the envelope had no markings to speak of and a flat, black seal. The counter-concealment charms Bélanger placed on every inch had no effect. Wary hands breaking the seal discovered a piece of parchment, and a flat, ovular package. Dumbledore's personal lesser-known symbol was flourished on an inside corner. As Bélanger studied the symbol she knocked the message from the desk and glimpsed the letters as it fluttered languidly to the floor. Familiar loopy handwriting stated: Swallow. Immediately.  
  
Bélanger gulped instinctively as she unwrapped the tiny package. She uncovered what appeared to be a cerulean-turquoise pill from the dusty brown newsprint. The pill was a flat oval as the wrapping had suggested, completely hollow with a cross shape spreading out from the center. Although powdery to touch, the pill glowed and bubbles of light moved within the edges.  
  
Bélanger gripped the pill and her wand then, throwing back her head, mouth wide open, she swallowed the chalky thing. What possible danger was to come? Contact from the Order during working hours was a rare event, let alone potions, pills, or anything of the sort.  
  
The slim pill tasted of nothing and Bélanger returned to work. Research to be done and schoolwork besides, worrying didn't fit into the pattern. Snape had been harboring a recent penchant for assigning impossible essays.  
  
Without warning the pill hit Bélanger's stomach. It brought an incredible burst of feeling that hit her so hard she fell to the floor. Her mind started racing of its own accord. Memories of her childhood, her first magic incident (kissing little Danny Blue and turning his teeth to match his name), faces of friends, family and the Order, every piece of information she had gathered, it all became so crystal clear like shards of glass shattering at the side of her skull.  
  
She coughed up bright emissions of light and fell into the door, hands burning. The door creaked open against the force of her weight and she lay gasping for breath.  
  
Fully aware the door needed closing; Bélanger could not muster a single kJ of energy. Her legs were visible from outside of her office and some anxious official was bound to see. Sure enough, a young, portly little worker rushed in.  
  
"Miss Santi!" He exclaimed, crouching beside Bay (aka Ramuda Santi). The worried little man knelt beside her, keeping his hands firmly at his sides, sweat beading in the furrowed brow. "What on earth happened? Are you unwell?"  
  
Bélanger shot what she hoped was a winning smile. "Not to worry Barry, I'm feeling mega clumsy this morning that's all." She pushed herself up and Barry hastily clung to her bare elbow for support. Bay smiled again, felt a lurch in her stomach, and raced to the floor loo.  
  
***  
  
A house elf's (named Banno) POV  
  
I is waiting with patience for the student. Master Dumbledore is saying to hold the robes and I is, I is holding these robes very tightly. Master Dumbledore is also saying to take student to master's office and I is waiting so patiently.  
  
What loud noises these Floo travel is making!!  
  
I is seeing student is shaking soot from hair. She is being short and dark and her hair is being so also. I is thinking she is the student, Dobby is usually having this job, he is knowing her and he is telling Banno her looks. I is very proud to be taking Dobby's job, he is bad house-elf – is caring about money too much, and I is knowing I can be a good elf. The other house-elfs is agreeing, Binny is saying Dobby "is committing blasphemy." Binny is using big words always, I is not understanding.  
  
Stuent is calling for Dobby and is smiling then at Banno. She is dressing in school robes and is enchanting hair even shorter and cleaner. She is looking like normal student now ... not common woman.  
  
I is leading student to Master Dumbledore's office and is giving password. It is being hard for Banno to say "Double Drooble's s'elboorD elbuoD" but I is. I is bringing student to door then is waiting outside for her when she is going in.  
  
What loud noises raised voices is making!!  
  
"What on earth was killing me going to do for the Order Albus?!"  
  
"I think you may be overreacting a tad Bélanger."  
  
"I was out for the rest of the day vomiting as though up heaving my  
organs was going out of fashion! Besides that, I was absent for  
several NEWT classes and Snape..."  
  
"Professor."  
  
"Professor Snape has been working the class like the bloody Dickens."  
  
"Language Miss Poireau."  
  
"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall."  
  
"Bélanger, I could not offer an explanation in a letter to the  
Ministry. It would endanger your life as well as others. The Order  
is still covert despite the Ministry's apparent change of heart,  
Lucius Malfoy has been routinely influencing the Ministry since his  
release. Additionally, you have the time-turner for schoolwork, do  
you not?"  
  
"I know that Albus and I have no desire to harm anybody. Only, taking  
that pill was the most god-awful thing I've ever done. I wouldn't  
mind so usually, I just became frightened that perhaps an enemy to the  
Order had sent it. Why did I have to swallow that thing so  
immediately in the first place? Why did I need to take it at all?"  
  
Silence is feeling much better on Banno's ears.  
  
"IT is an experimental 'elixir' called Mentiran, it can partially  
deter the effects of Veritaserum. Despite its sudden and violent  
effects, it takes at least a few hours to begin working, it stays in  
the nervous system for life."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"No one is quite sure really could be the interesting mix of demiguise-  
"  
  
"I meant, why do I need this Mentiran, who is in danger?"  
  
"When you agreed to become a part of the Order you agreed to the  
terms. There are many things I can not tell you about your work, why  
you are in the Order, and, no matter how many times you bring me  
chocolate frogs (which you must stop doing), who your biological  
parents are. I must ask you not to press me on this issue either."  
  
"Your thirst for..."  
  
"... for knowledge will be my downfall, I know Professor. Excuse me for  
being short with you both."  
  
"It has been several hours since your encounter with Menitran, why  
don't we introduce you to some Veritaserum?"  
  
"Of course, Albus."  
  
I is thinking the kitchens is needing Banno's help. ---  
  
...ice cream, whipping cream, halfnhalf cream, vanilla cream, custard cream, lubricant... You're done? What a surprise! Of course it's not, you dolt. Otherwise you wouldn't be writing the post-fic AN. I knew that. Please ignore my annoying alter-ego that strikes when I have nothing else to write but feel obligated to write at least a full paragraph. Reviews would be nice. 


End file.
